


All the Way Home

by jdjunkie



Category: Stargate SG-1
Genre: M/M, Voyeurism
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-02-04
Updated: 2011-02-04
Packaged: 2017-10-15 09:27:46
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,153
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/159408
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jdjunkie/pseuds/jdjunkie
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>He wasn’t sure how it had happened, but the archaeologist with attitude, who had been a part of his team for four years and a friend for longer than that, had suddenly become the  subject of too many night-time fantasies.</p>
            </blockquote>





	All the Way Home

**Author's Note:**

> Written for Porn Battle XI to the prompt: voyeurism

Downtime beckoned. Two precious days. Jack began dreaming of cold beer and hot, spicy pizza as he shed his BDU jacket and prepared for the switch to civilian life.

He really should tidy his locker. It was littered with unread National Geographics from way back, candy wrappers (Carter’s and Daniel’s, both in denial over their sugar addiction) and what looked like a slice of congealed pie. A couple of emergency sweaters had been balled up and shoved to the back. The mess was decidedly unmilitary and very un-Jack like. Damn, but he’d been distracted lately.

And the cause of that distraction, it turned out, hadn’t left the Mountain yet. From the showers came the unlikely sound of Daniel Jackson singing. Jack listened more closely. Yep. That was Daniel. Not that he was programed to recognize his voice absolutely anywhere or anything like that. He could hardly believe what he was hearing. Daniel never sang, in the shower or out of it as far as Jack knew, yet here he was, giving Springsteen’s All The Way Home his all ... in Farsi. Jack recognized the odd word from a time in his life he’d really rather forget. The rendition was more or less in tune, loud and enthusiastically endearing. Sing like there’s no one listening ... As far as Daniel was concerned, no one was. Jack felt a little guilty for eavesdropping, but only a little. Today, he’d learned something new. Daniel liked to sing in the shower. Who knew?

Farsi switched to Spanish. It was obviously too simple for Daniel to use English like everybody else. _Doctor_ Jackson had to turn everything into a challenge. God. Did he _never_ give his brain a break?

Jack smiled to himself and continued to change into sweatshirt and jeans and tried not to think about a naked Daniel only feet away; wet, steamy, and, had he mentioned naked?

He wasn’t sure how it had happened, but the archaeologist with attitude, who had been a part of his team for four years and a friend for longer than that, had suddenly become the subject of too many night-time fantasies. Lots of angsting over feelings he didn’t understand suddenly resolved itself over several nights of spectacularly erotic dreams and subsequent fast, hard jerking-off sessions.

His dick and his subconscious figured it out long before his waking brain managed to.

He was screwed.

From the direction of the showers, the soft lilt of Spanish gave way to the more guttural sound of the German language, which, after a moment or two, gave way to something even more ... guttural.

The singing faltered as a harsh, stifled, “Nggg,” filtered through the haze of steam.

Jack froze while shrugging into his leather jacket. He tilted his head. There it was again; more urgent this time, and utterly unmistakable. Heart pounding, he eyed the door to the locker room. He could easily leave without being heard. He should leave. Daniel was indulging in a little post-mission stress relief. He was entitled to his privacy.

And yet ...

The thought of a soapy, dripping wet Daniel touching himself just yards away was a siren call. He wanted to watch.

He’d seen Daniel in the showers many times but only in that not-really-noticing way that happened when men shared showers. So he knew that Daniel’s dick was smaller but thicker than his, that his pubic hair was reddish, that his balls hung low and heavy. He knew all that, but he hadn’t known that Daniel sung in the shower. Except, he wasn’t singing now. Now, Daniel was making soft, repeated “Uh, uh, mmm” sounds that he was trying very hard to muffle.

Jack pictured him biting his lip, throwing his head back as he lost himself in the feeling, spreading his legs wider, thrusting his hard cock into his fist, over and over, the muscles in his ass tensing and relaxing.

Jack shook his head. This wasn’t right. He shouldn’t know what Daniel sounded like when he was pleasuring himself. He shouldn’t be thinking about Daniel leaning one outstretched hand against the tiled wall, fucking his hand faster and faster, pre-come mixing with the hot spray and slicking his fingers.

Jack was hard, his erection pushing against the seam of his jeans. He wanted pressure there so badly. The urge to put his hand to his groin and press was overwhelming. My god ... to touch himself while Daniel did the same and moaned and grunted his need ...

“Yeah, yeah, oh, oh, unh, fu--”

Jack leaned his forehead against the locker door. This had to stop.

“Fuck, fuck, oh, oh, _christ,_ yes, yesss ...”

Too much, too hot, too fucking close to everything Jack wanted and couldn’t have. He slammed his locker shut. The metal hit metal with a resounding clang that Jack knew would never be able to block out the sounds Daniel was making.

Angry and unbearably turned on, he turned to the bench to pick up his bag, and there, not in the showers at all, stood Daniel, naked, wet, beautiful. With a small, treacherous smile on his face he intoned, “Yes, ohhh, yes, fuck, yes” in the same gonna-come-soon voice that had made Jack’s cock stiff and his heart ache. Daniel wasn’t even hard. He hadn’t been jerking off at all.

“Did you come?” Daniel asked, running his hands through his hair, stretching just enough to make the water droplets slide from his body more quickly. His eyes slid slowly to Jack’s groin, and he smiled again.

Jack couldn’t answer. He had no idea what to say. His dick was saying it all for him.

“It’s okay, Jack. The first move always had to be mine.” Daniel reached for a towel and began drying off, making sure Jack had a good view. First his chest, then underarms and those delicious tufts of hair, then legs and finally between his legs. He took great care, lifting his cock, his glorious, cut cock, rubbing and fluffing out the hair down there.

Jack couldn’t tear his gaze away.

“I’m in the mood for hot pizza and cold beer. Wanna share?” Daniel asked, like it was just another team night when in fact Jack’s world had just tilted off its axis. Daniel walked over to his locker, pulled out his clothes and began to dress. Thirty seconds later, hair still damp, eyelashes still wet and so fucking beguiling, he shut his own locker, picked up his bag and handed Jack his.

Jack knew he was doing a passable imitation of a guppy, but couldn’t do a thing about it.

Daniel manoeuvred his way past Jack, just grazing his shoulder as he passed. “Coming?” Daniel asked, waiting by the door, the half-smile signifying that he knew exactly what he was asking.

Jack’s mouth slowly twisted into a wry grin. He made sure he bumped Daniel’s shoulder as he made his way into the corridor.

Downtime had never been so promising.

ends


End file.
